The Palmist's Last Reading

The corporate gala was suffocating—champagne flutes and forced laughter, men in suits who talked too loud. Elena slipped onto the balcony, needing air. That's where she found the palm reader, an old woman with weathered skin and eyes like cracked glass.

"You carry tension in your hands," the woman said, taking Elena's palm without asking. "You think you're the spy, but you're the one being watched."

Elena pulled back. "What?"

"Your lifeline is strong but interrupted. Someone cut in. Someone you trusted." The woman traced a finger along Elena's palm. "And here—the heart line branches twice. Two loves. One real, one... not."

Elena's throat tightened. She'd suspected for months—the encrypted phone Marcus kept in his gym bag, the late nights at the office, the way he flinched when she touched his shoulder. But suspicion wasn't proof.

Inside, she found Marcus by the bar, laughing at something his business partner said. A woman stood next to him—blond, too young, hair falling in perfect waves. Marcus brushed a stray hair from her shoulder. The gesture was intimate, practiced. Something he'd done with Elena a thousand times.

Elena walked over. Marcus turned, his smile faltering.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"The palm reader says I'm being watched," Elena said. "Said my heart line branches twice."

The blood drained from Marcus's face. The business partner excused himself. The blonde drifted away.

"Elena—"

"Is she your spy?" Elena's voice didn't waver. "Did you hire someone to follow me? Or is she just... collateral?"

Marcus ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of defeat. "The company's being investigated. I needed to know what you knew, whether you'd talk."

"So you sent her?" Elena gestured toward where the blonde had stood.

"She works for the firm. It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"It never is."

Elena walked out. The valet brought her car. She sat in the driver's seat for a long time, staring at her hands—the palm the old woman had read, the fingers that had worn Marcus's ring for seven years. She took it off and left it on the passenger seat.

Some futures, she realized, you have to read yourself.